Simple Math

These two people 

plus this 

plus this

equals this:

Andy is leaving tomorrow for a "work" trip to Cost Rica {insert my eyes rolling back in my head here}.  That poor man, slaving away to provide for his family in such a desolate and barren wasteland.  I just can't even imagine what that must be like for him.  

Oh wait, actually I can.

And Mia is headed in to the infamous "tech week" of Annie rehearsals.  From now until opening night she must sell her soul to the theater.  This past week she had over 20 hours of rehearsals and somehow it is only going to get worse (or better, according to Mia).

Thankfully, she is loving every second of this experience.  She told us that her EIGHT HOUR rehearsal Saturday "actually only felt like three."  

Thank goodness, because it felt like 80 to me.  

So I am single-mommin' it this week.  The only part of that I am looking forward to is passing off apple slices and cheese as dinner (with a side of halloween candy, of course).

It looks like someone has a bad case of the Wednesdays.

Which, in my opinion, are worse than the Mondays. 

Twelve Years

This weekend Andy and I celebrated our 12-year anniversary.  Twelve blessed years that I would do all over again in a heartbeat.  

And nothing could be more representative of our twelfth year of marriage then two little blonde-haired children devouring the very fancy, expensive piece of chocolate cake I brought home from our anniversary dinner. 

I had planned to enjoy it with my husband tonight after the neanderthals were in bed.  But those two can sniff a treat hiding in the house from a mile away.

And you know what?  I didn't even care.  In fact, we got more joy out of watching them eat it than we ever could have eating it ourselves.

And that's just the season of life we are in right now.  I don't get too many nights alone with my husband eating a fancy piece of cake.  But I do get nights full of a giggly seven-year-old, a half-naked four-year-old and a faithful, loving husband standing at the sink washing the dishes.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Why is it that my children think 6 AM is a perfectly reasonable time to wake up on a Saturday, yet can't wake up for anything on a school day?

Just a question for the universe...

This past Saturday morning I heard little voices and stumbled into the living room to see this:

Apparently there is nothing like a reading lesson at 6:02 AM on a Saturday.  And as long as I am not the one teaching it, I couldn't agree more.

Top of the morning to you.

I've already been up for several hours with this sweet boy.  He can't.  Quit.  Coughing.  All the cough medicine, breathing treatments, allergy meds and humidifiers in the western hemisphere won't slow this cough down. 

It's laughable how naive I was as a new mother.  I really believed that if I could just get through those first couple of months, just get this little infant to sleep through the night, then I could go back to my normal sleeping patters and all would be right with the world.

The joke is on me.  I don't want to be a Debbie Downer, but all you new or soon-to-be mommas out there I'm just going to shoot straight with you:  You will never sleep again.  I'll give you a moment to let that sink in, and if you are like me you may have to go ahead and have a good cry about it.  The truth is sometimes difficult to accept.

I have had a rough month.  Well, maybe I should just go ahead and say a rough fall.  Sometimes life can just be a bit overwhelming.  Nothing earth shattering has happened.  I am still blessed beyond anything I deserve.  But nonetheless it has been rough and I have felt stressed and sad and exhausted.

Thankfully, though, I have learned a tough but needed lesson this fall and this is it:  It is possible to be content amongst chaos, to have peace in the valley.  It's not easy, and I don't have that concept mastered - I'm not even close.  But it is possible, and that gives me a little bit more strength and a whole lot more hope.

Another day another afternoon stroll with a half-naked child.

Sometimes you've just got to shed the pants and get comfortable.

Mia's dream/My nightmare

All Mia wanted for her 7th birthday was a zoo party and some new colored pencils.

 I was completely fine with the colored pencils part.

 Boa constrictors and baby dragon thingies aren't my idea of a good time, but then again it wasn't my party.

 In Erick's next life he is going to be a snake charmer.

 Even the Great-grands had a good time.

 Ok fine, I'll admit that the chinchilla was pretty cute,

 but this ferret just screamed "disease-ridden" to me.

 At one point Gena looked over and said, "I am really proud of you."  

She knew all of this was way out of my comfort zone.  I assumed 7-year-old girl birthday parties consisted of painting some nails and curling hair. 

And then I had Mia. 

 That lemur looked like it wanted to destroy every kid at the party.

 Num num num...

 But the hipster Daddies got a kick out of him.

 I really can't explain what is going on with this hair, so please quit asking me.  I can't control this man.

 Nine-thousand children all in a row - a birthday miracle.

 As with most things that don't include violence, Bode was less than impressed.

 And the only thing cuter than a 5-month old on top of a giant tortoise is

a 5-month-old not on top of a giant tortoise.

My sweet, marching-to-the-beat-or-her-own-drum daughter is seven.  

This marks the seventh year I have loved something more than I could ever love myself.

And it feels awesome.

Advice from a 4-year-old

I never said it was good advice...

Lesson Learned: Never give me a microphone.

Last night was the Mother Daughter banquet.  The banquet where I forgot to say anything I planned to say and instead just vomited a bunch of stuff out of my mouth.

I am much more comfortable behind the safety of a computer screen.  (Notice I didn't say better).  Anyway, I got up there and my mind went haywire and nothing was natural and I forgot to be myself and instead turned into this awkward talking head.

There were funny slides that weren't funny at all because I was so panicked about I don't know what that I forgot to mention them.  And all of your lovely comments - forgot.

(Yaya made this gorgeous dress.  I want one in my size.)

Thankfully Mia and my mother-in-law saved me (and there was this big hook).  They were both at ease and mostly made up for my weirdness.

Mia had quite the support system.  She was on cloud nine and when we got home said, "I want to do that again."  Translation, "Next time just let me handle this, Mom."

I told Andy I was never talking again.  He got so excited until I clarified, "into a microphone."  Then his face fell.

But I have to do this again.  In less than two weeks.  Unless someone from the Stillwater church of Christ was there and wants to go ahead and cancel.
Either I'll remember the slides and the wonderful comments or I'll run out of there screaming.

I've been trying to find a silver lining and this is it:  My family still loves me and most everyone will forget all about this in a day or two.  Except me.  So I guess this is more like a bronze lining...
However I did get to go shopping for a new outfit so, yah, silver it is.